


Waiting For My Words

by lea_ysaye



Category: Death Stranding, Death Stranding (Video Games), Norman Reedus - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, Mpreg, Pain, blame Kojima for that, what canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:53:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7212361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_ysaye/pseuds/lea_ysaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We know nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting For My Words

**Author's Note:**

> This won't make much sense unless you've seen the [Hideo Kojima Death Stranding video game trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i2nuHEGhwiw). And even then... This is what my brain made of it.
> 
> By far the weirdest thing I've ever written. _Low Roar_ was on repeat all day.

01001001 00100111 01101100 01101100 00100000 01001011 01100101 01100101 01110000 00100000 01000011 01101111 01101101 01101001 01101110 01100111 

**Follow Zero.**

**Follow Zero.**

**Follow…**

Stickiness. Blackness, taste of tar. Oil. Slimy. Burns the back of his throat.

Deadness.

Pain. Slicing, cutting. Hot. Knife. Laser sharp. Smell of burnt flesh. Razor. Blazing.

He’s empty. It’s gone.

**Follow Zero.**

**Follow…**

He’s One.

 

 _///// ( i γ′_ _⋅_ _∂′_ _− m ) ψ′(x') = 0 Wave. Bispinors. Spin. \\\\\\\\\_

 

 “Adjust this. Ok…all right, yeah… Better. There!”

“He’s awake.”

“I know. Hey, dude, can you hear me? Blink once for yes. Tube down your throat, you can’t talk…”

_“Gnnhnn…”_

“Huh? What is it? Does it hurt?”

“There. That was one blink, right?”

“Yeah… shit. They’re not supposed to be awake. He keeps coming back. Fucker…”

“Should we up the, y’know…? Maybe?”

“No, that’d kill him. He’s up to hundred ten already. He’ll just have to live with it… Adjust the probe.”

_“Mmmhhhmmm…”_

“Damn, it’s stuck. Shit…”

“He’s tensing up too much. Oh, all right, increase the anesthetic. If we lose one… We’ll never get it done if he clenches up like that…what you look like that for?”

“It’s just… it’s freaky, right? That big… I mean, he’s still a…”

“A what?”

“Never mind…”

“Well, shut up then and do your job. Push harder…”

_“Hhhhnghnn…”_

_///// rs = 2GM/c2 Gravity. Static. Momentum. \\\\\\\\\_

_What?_

**Follow Zero.**

**Follow…**

Not memory. Imprint. Instant. Instinct. Re…

Breath of the beast. Too hot. Too…

_What?_

**Follow Zero.**

**One.**

**Follow.**

01010111 01100001 01101001 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01000110 01101111 01110010 00100000 01001101 01111001 00100000 01010111 01101111 01110010 01100100 01110011 

 

His eyes open. Wrong. So wrong. Electric pulses, up and down his arm. Needles. Fire ants.

Fire.

Ants.

**Follow Zero.**

All wrong. Looks wrong.

It’s wrong.

_What?_

It’s there. It’s…

Hands. Tiny hands. _No. Nonono._

Outside, is wrong. So wrong. Too small. Too weak. No breath…

So small, in his hands. And it’s cold. Too cold. But…

_What?_

It’s moving.

 

01001000 01101001 01100100 01100101 01101111 00100000 01001011 01101111 01101010 01101001 01101101 01100001 00100000 01001100 01110101 01100100 01100101 01101110 01110011

 

Too loud. Too much. He shouldn’t have heard it, at all. But…

_What?_

**Follow Zero.**

**Follow Zero.**

**One.**

**Follow…**

He’s empty. Full of agony, but empty. Pain, sadness… Ripped away. Too soon, too small.

Despair. Hot like tears on his face. Bleary eyes. Blind with grief.

So wrong. Dead.

Smell of tar. Deadness. Carbon. Pressure. Death. Despair. White hot.

_Gone._

So full. Full to burst. Swollen. Skin like marble, translucent. Hurt so much. It moved, inside. He can still feel it. Memory. No, in…

_Stop._

Empty now. Gone. Never been.

So wrong.

**Follow Zero.**

Empty hands. Empty heart. Empty.

Fear.

No. Wrong. He can see it now. This is wrong. Dead. Darkness. Oil. Tar.

That noise. It should never have been.

They all died. All of them. All.

Stink of rotten fish overpowers him. Dead flesh. His throat closes in horror.

Tiny hands, cold as ice. One, one. **One.**

_What?_

Huge hands, gripping, slapping, squeezing. Pain. White hot. Up, inside.

Squeezing all air from his lungs.

Tiny, icy fingerprints.

**Follow.**

_What?_

**One. Follow Zero.**

Can’t breathe. No air. Zero air. Stink of asphalt.

_What?_

Tar. Dead beasts. Death stink. Fuel. Energy.

**Follow Zero.**

_No._

one, and one, and one, and one, and one. tiny, far away. too far. too few. fire.

_What?_

_No._

_I won’t._

_You can’t make me._

_It’s dead._

**It is not dead. Follow Zero.**

_No._

Pain. Slicing. Hot. Icy. Numb. Agony. His head. His gut.

_No._

_No…_

_You can’t…_

_can’t…_

_make me…_

_make._

_No._

**One. Now. Follow Zero.**

**Now.**


End file.
